As the man's lips locked onto mine my eyes were thrust open, as if by a supernatural force. But when my eyes opened I was no longer in my Storybrooke apartment.
I staggered backwards as I took in my surroundings. There was a woman sitting alone on a chair, crying silently. Her shoulders shook as she rocked a small child in her arms. I took a small step forward and began to stretch out my arm to comfort the woman when a figure arrived in the doorway.
"It's time." I gasped. This man, this man in my dream is the same man who has his lips plastered to mine at this exact moment.
But is this actually a dream? It seems too real, almost as if this moment is a memory, a memory lost in time - my memory.
As the man walked into the room another figure, a woman, arrived in the doorway. I nearly collapse as I realize who it is; Mary Margaret - my mother.
The man helped the young woman up and she fell into his arms. Tears escaped his eyes, a waterfall of emotion. The infant child was handed to Mary - Margaret as the man pulled the woman into a soft, but passionate, kiss.
"I will find my way back to you, love," he whispered through a torrent of tears. He began to lead her out the door, but I couldn't take this anymore, I had to know who they were.
"HEY!" I yelled. "HEY! Can't you hear me?" Nobody moved. "Really," I muttered. I picked myself up and, still shaking, made my way over to the couple. I placed my hand on the woman's shoulder and gasped in pain.
The woman was me.
*How did you like it? This chapter was quite hard to write. I know where I want to go with the story, but I'm having a hard time with these "filler" paragraphs. Please remember to follow me on Instagram @welcome.to.storybrooke*
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The Definition of Love
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